Aut viam inveniam aut faciam
by The Lost Souls of Avalon
Summary: The night the Potters are murdered, Harry was taken from the ruins of Godric's Hollow and sent to a world vastly different from the one he was born on. Raised by the Maoh as her adoptive son, he vows to protect Shin Makoku and its future Maoh.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and Kyo Kara Maoh! to Tomo Takabayashi. Lost Souls makes no claims of ownership over either and solemnly asks not to be sued, because this is a nonprofit text with the sole purpose of amusing one's self without monetary gain and is in no way meant to undermine the original creators' authority. Title from www[dot]yuni[dot]com/library/latin[dot]html.

**Aut viam inveniam aut faciam**: _I will either find a way or make one._

A Harry Potter/Kyo Kara Maoh! Crossover by _The Lost Souls of Avalon_

_In the aftermath of the attack on Godric's Hollow, baby Harry is sent to Shin Makoku by Earth's Maoh. There, he becomes the adopted fourth son of Cecilie von Spitzweg. Fourteen years later, when the new Maoh finally appears, he's ready to take on the task of protecting him with his unusual powers and unique talents, even if it ousts him as the freak he knows he is. But Harry has his hands full, because not only does he have to risk life and limb for the Maoh, but Voldemort is on the prowl for the one who defeated him with the intent to kill._

Rated: Teen (for now)

Warnings: Cursing, slash, sexual content (future), parallel Earths/realities, abuse of trans-dimensional travel, loop holes, powerful!Harry, protective!Wolfram, AUish

Pairings: Yuri x Harry, Wolfram x Alford (the Hero), Conrad x Yosak, Gwendal x Günter, Shinou x Great Sage/Murata, Gisela x Dorcas, Cecilie x Anissina, past Adelbert x Julia

Spoilers: KKM Seasons 1–3

Author's note: Harry's Earth and Yuri's Earth are two separate dimensions, whereas the trip from Harry's Earth to Shin Makoku is one-way and Yuri's is two-way.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Typically, a rebounding spell shouldn't cause much structural damage. However, a spell not meant to rebound and cast with such a magnitude of hatred could very likely collapse a building. In this case, Godric's Hollow, in which the Dark Lord Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse on Harry James Potter, still a baby in his crib. From the outside, it was difficult to discern any possible damage, but anything could trigger a domino effect that sent the entire house crumbling. Either way, there wasn't much time to lose, for Dumbledore was sure to send someone to scope out the scene for survivors and soon. She had little time to act.

The front door was left gaping open; after all, Voldemort was a busy man and closing it would take precious time that he couldn't spare, apparently. But the door open meant she could simply slip in and not shift the frame of the house, even if it had just been a little. Treading lightly, she swiftly took in the disheveled appearance of the den and its single unorthodox ornament, the unfortunate body of James Potter, in front of the staircase where he had obviously tried to hold off the evil wizard.

There was no avoiding the stairs, but magic could cushion her footsteps and she diligently applied such a spell before ascending the case, elbows close to her sides. Still, even with the spell, she was careful how she placed her weight, not to disturb nary of speck of dust. She didn't want her presence to be known, particularly not after she left. Sometimes anonymity was a girl's greatest asset. Dumbledore especially couldn't know of her involvement; that would be an unfortunate mess.

It was with that in mind that she entered the smallest bedroom, its door torn clear off its hinges with obvious disregard for simple etiquette like knocking. But again, this was the Dark Lord. The normal rules of society didn't seem to apply to him. And, she mused thoughtfully to herself, neither did it apply to the toddler in the crib. She didn't flinch at the earsplitting wails the child continuously emitted and simply padded across the room to the crib, stepping over Lily's remains. Again, it was an unfortunate loss, but what was most important was the child.

Harry was physically unharmed except for a jagged gash on his forehead. Idly, she swiped her thumb through the blood, gazing down at the cursed wound that would become a cursed scar. She noted he wailed even louder when she touched the wound and figured it was actually quite painful, a sensation the child had no business knowing so early in life. With a soft coo, she banished her apathy and swiftly took the child, along with a blanket, into her arms, resting him against her breast and rocking in what she hoped to be a comforting gesture. She admittedly had little experience with children of any age. It'd be better if small Harry were in the arms of someone more maternal.

Which returned her mind back to her true intentions. She let her eyes go blank and stopped her baby noises, focusing on the compulsion her magic possessed. _Sleep, little one_. She pushed the thought into the child, the edges of suggestion clinging to his still developing senses. As she descended back down the stairs, the cries slowly ceased, tapering into soft breathing sounds, for which she was grateful for. Harry's magic was strong, even as a fifteen-month-old child, but not refined enough to resist a carefully honed compulsion spell. But there was no doubt that one day he would be quite the wizard and a force to be reckoned with.

She left the house then, once Harry was settled and the coast was clear, and with no time to spare. Whatever equilibrium had kept Godric's Hollow standing was gone and the quaint two-storey cottage was about to buckle in on itself. She was quick to vacate the direct vicinity, outside the Anti-Apparition wards connected more to the land itself than the house. She wondered if the hindrance had vexed Voldemort as much as it did her. And sure, she could've punched a hole through the wards themselves, but that would reveal a bit too much about herself than she cared to, especially if Dumbledore, or Merlin forbid, Aurors investigated. They needn't know she could squash them all like insects if she wanted.

Once beyond the boundaries of the wards, however, she wasted no time in wrapping them both in powerful magic and Apparating them to the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. It was under the cover of night that she stole northward, careful to avoid the Burrow. She had no qualms with the Weasleys, but their affiliation with Dumbledore was too strong for her to be comfortable being spotted by them, despite the unlikelihood at such a late hour. Her destination instead was the peculiar cylindrical-shaped residence that resembled a rook chess piece. It was eccentric architecture, but, granted, those living there were quite eccentric, too.

Hands full of Harry Potter, who was heavier than he looked, she was saved the hassle of opening the door, let alone knocking. A woman of average height stood in the doorway, her large silver eyes heavily bagged by fatigue; she, after all, had her own infant to look after, a certain Luna Lovegood. As the figure stepped aside, she entered right into a large kitchen space and dining amenities. She nodded to the woman with long, dirty blonde hair in greeting. "Good evening, Celeste."

"Maoh," Celeste greeted in turn with a respectful dip of the head and curtsy. "Luna is asleep and Xenophilius is out to fetch diapers and wipes. We have half an hour at most." As she spoke, she led them up a spiral staircase up several floors. Across from Luna's bedroom, Celeste opened a broom closet, magically enlarged to suit their purpose for that night.

The Maoh inspected the space before nodding in satisfaction. The cleaning supplies expected to reside in such a closet were nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by candles burning incense and a multitude of stones and gems that were suitable for channeling magical energies. A large circle had been drawn in chalk, a bit more than a meter in diameter, and a pentagram symmetrically placed within it, at each point a representation of the four elements plus a spiritual one: a chalice of water, a lit three-branched candelabrum, a flowering plant, a corked phial, and a rosary passed down to her by her great grandmother that had symbolic value to her. Runes danced along the outer edge of the magical circle, each strategically placed according to arithmantic equations, designed to promote the upcoming ritual intended to take place.

Celeste closed the door behind them and the only light to illuminate the room were the candles. She watched as the woman made sure the babe was wrapped securely in his blanket before setting him in the center of the pentagram. Hands clasped in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, she went to stand close to the somber woman. "Maoh, forgive my insolence, but are you sure? The repercussions if it fails, and even if it doesn't––"

"I know, Celeste." She paced the border of the circle, humming an odd tune under her breath. She knew very well that this ritual could strip her of her magic, or even her life. But some things were worth risking so much and with all that relied on Harry's continued existence and well being, she was honored to be a part of his life, to serve him in this manner. She knelt and her knees popped in protest, but she didn't twitch. Angling her head back and placing her hands on her lap, folded neatly, she sunk deep inside herself and summoned her magic, her maryoku, and her sheer will. She saw that place she wanted to send Harry in her mind's eye and embraced it with intent and purpose. All the while, she was unaware of the aura she emitted and the light from the sigils surrounding Harry. She needed perfect concentration to pull this off. Even the slightest distraction could lead to devastating consequences. And Harry must live. No matter what.

She felt the growing swell of raw energy inside her and began to feed it into the circle and its runes. A translucent barrier shot up from it, passing through the ceiling and roof without seeming to touch it at all. It shimmered and wavered as it struggled to make the connection between worlds, a glittering tunnel that may or may not have been a likeness to the theorized wormholes that could potentially bridge two distance points. She felt the ripple of magic as gravity reversed in the tunnel and watched through half-closed eyes as Harry in his bundle ascended slowly from the floor. An invisible force pulled him up and up and up, through the ceiling and roof as if it were not there, disappearing from view but still in transit, if the intense buzzing of the magic were anything to go on. A few beads of sweat formed on her brow as she felt her magic begin to protest at the strain she was putting on it. She trembled with impending exhaustion, but persevered.

She was unaware of the time lapsed as she fought with her magic, her maryoku wearing out at a disturbingly fast rate. Gathering what she figured to be the last of her strength, she _pushed_ with all her might, bade the magic to take the child far, far away, _demanded_ it to bend to her will and obey despite the strain. And with a shaky exhale, she expelled everything that made her Maoh, the last boost of magic she could expend, and felt the energy abruptly snap, causing the ground to tremble at the rebound. Before she lost consciousness, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of accomplishment and knew that Harry had left this Earth. She also knew, all too well and perhaps better than any other, that fate could not be thwarted, that destiny would take its course in one way or another. But that didn't meant it couldn't be _delayed_.

With that last thought, Sibyll Trelawney fell into a coma, her magic depleted, left a feeble Squib in the unmerciful grip of darkness.

* * *

Dorcas paused in his rounds and exchanged looks with his fellow men-at-arms. The noise was faint but constant and although it sounded far away, there was obvious distress in it. A quick gesture had his two partners spread out and in strategic position before they began a surgical sweep of Blood Pledge Castle's lower and less occupied corridors, the deeper they go, the louder the sound. By all means, it sounded as if it were coming from the treasure room, but it was secured with a lock that only a few had the key to. How something got in there––an animal, no doubt, by the wailing it was doing––was a mystery to be solved later.

"Summon the Maoh and Commander von Voltaire," he briskly ordered. "There may have been a break in." While one soldier sprinted off to do just that, Dorcas examined the lock on the door to the treasure room. It was intact and showed no sign of forced entry; the door was solid and refused to budge when pressed. The only remaining explanation was majutsu, but an animal didn't have maryoku, unless it was a trick of some sort for them to open the door and release what was inside to attack the Maoh or wreck mindless havoc on the castle––but what kind of Mazoku would harm the Maoh? Surely it wasn't houryoku, since it was notoriously unreliable in Shin Makoku and therefore harder to perform.

With all the possible threats dutifully taking up most of his mind, it never occurred to Dorcas that the source of the noise was a scared baby, woken by the method of transport used to bring him to their world.

* * *

Vital Kyo Kara Maoh! Terminology

**Mazoku**: "The Demon Tribe," people of Shin Makoku.

**Majutsu**: A special discipline, "magic," essentially, that is acquired when a mazoku makes a pact with an element, such as fire, water, earth, or air. It is extremely difficult to use in human lands.

**Maryoku**: A mazoku's power source for his majutsu. It can be drained if overused, leaving the mazoku weak for a time. In severe cases, using up one's maryoku can lead to death.

**Maoh**: The Demon/Mazoku King. He rules over Shin Makoku with the assistance of the 10 (12?) Noble Families.

**Shinou**: "The Shinou," the Original King who founded Shin Makoku. He sealed away Soushu, a great evil that plagued the world 4000 years ago, into the Four Forbidden Boxes (The End of the Land, The End of the Wind, Hell's Fire on Frozen Tundra, and The Mirror at the Bottom of the Sea).

**Daikenja**: "The Great Sage," the Original King's most trusted advisor and friend. He swore a promise to do whatever it takes to destroy Soushu once and for all.

**Soushu**: An evil entity spawned from intense negative emotions. While most of it was trapped in the Four Forbidden Boxes, a fraction latched onto the Shinou and festered in his soul.

**Soukoku**: A kingdom of dark eyed and dark haired people regarded highly in Shin Makoku. They are supposed to have mythical powers that are greatly feared by humans. Soukoku, "double black," can be a derogative term.

**Shinzoku**: A thought to be extinct race with powers like the mazoku. Their country, Seisakoku, was sealed off from humans and strangers in general, and is falling apart.

**Houjutsu**: "Ritual Art," the shinzoku's counter to majutsu. It is extremely difficult to use in lands occupied by the mazoku.

**Houryoku**: Like maryoku, it is the power source for a shinzoku's houjutsu.

**Houseki**: A naturally occurring element, often mined as crystals, that stifles a mazoku's maryoku and majutsu. It can be used by humans to harness houjutsu, despite them having no innate magical abilities.

**Shin Makoku**: "The Great Demon Kingdom," literally "True Mazoku Land." Most mazoku reside in this country, founded over 4000 years ago by the Original King.

**Covenant (or Blood Pledge) Castle**: Located in the capital of Shin Makoku, Blood Pledge Castle is where the Maoh and many of his advisors live and operate most of their business.

**Shinou Temple**: Located in Shin Makoku. The Genshi Miko (Original Maiden or Oracle) resides in this temple that is said to house the Shinou's spirit. The Genshi Miko is essentially a priestess who communicates with the Shinou through prayer and meditation. Only women are allowed inside, unless they have permission.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and Kyo Kara Maoh! to Tomo Takabayashi. Lost Souls makes no claims of ownership over either and solemnly asks not to be sued, because this is a nonprofit text with the sole purpose of amusing one's self without monetary gain and is in no way meant to undermine the original creators' authority. Title from http:[doubleslash]www[dot]yuni[dot]come/library/latin[dot]html.

**Aut viam inveniam aut faciam**: _I will either find a way or make one_.

A Harry Potter/Kyo Kara Maoh! Crossover by _The Lost Souls of Avalon_

_In the aftermath of the attack on Godric's Hollow, baby Harry is sent to Shin Makoku by Earth's Maoh. There, he becomes the adopted fourth son of Cecilie von Spitzweg. Fourteen years later, when the new Maoh finally appears, he's ready to take on the task of protecting him with his unusual powers and unique talents, even if it ousts him as the freak he knows he is. But Harry has his hands full, because not only does he have to risk life and limb for the Maoh, but Voldemort is on the prowl for the one who defeated him with the intent to kill._

Rated: Teen (for now)

Warnings: Cursing, slash, sexual content (future), parallel Earths/realities, abuse of trans-dimensional travel, loop holes, powerful!Harry, protective!Wolfram, AUish

Pairings: Yuri x Harry, Wolfram x Alford (the Hero), Conrad x Yosak, Gwendal x Günter, Shinou x Great Sage/Murata, Gisela x Dorcas, Cecilie x Anissina, past Adelbert x Julia

Spoilers: KKM Seasons 1–3

Author's note: Harry's Earth and Yuri's Earth are two separate dimensions, whereas the trip from Harry's Earth to Shin Makoku is one-way and Yuri's is two-way.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

It had been some time since Cecilie last held such a small child, but motherhood was not something one forgot so easily. She stroked the curls, black as a starless night, such a rarity that she could hardly take her eyes off the little tyke, who was now dozing lightly. She found herself unable to put him down, even as Gisela looked him over. Initially, the only injuries were a few scraps, some minor bruising, the worst a gash on his forehead that bled sluggishly. The first two obediently mended under Gisela's healing majutsu, but the third stayed stubbornly open.

Mopping the blood gently with a moist rag, the blonde and busty Maoh frowned down at the oddly shaped wound. The edges were enflamed and curled outward, but smooth, as if whatever had caused it was merely slicing through warm butter. It gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach and quickly tried to put her mind at ease by inquiring about it to the medic.

Gisela pursed her lips together in consternation, glaring at the lightning bolt cut as if doing so would compel it to heal under her glowing hand. She tried to force more maryoku into her attempt, but it merely slid off the wound like water. Retracting her hand in defeat, she gave up on the majutsu and began to tend to it the old-fashioned way with cleaning solution, ointment, and a bandage. As she worked in a diligent manner, she tried her best to explain the odd resistance to her healing.

"I don't sense any majutsu or houjutsu from it, but it's not a normal wound either," the medic said, a finger hovering above the now bandaged wound. "I can't help but feel––" She hesitated for a moment, brows creasing her forehead in concentration. She released a gusty sigh and shook herself. "I can't help but feel an… aura of maliciousness around it. However it was dealt, it was done so with a lot of hate and rage. By someone who wanted this child dead." Gisela scowled a bit at that realization, wondering just what kind of disgusting person would try to kill an innocent babe.

Cecilie's thoughts ran along those same lines and she tightened her hold slightly on the child in her arms. His face was smooth and blissfully ignorant in his sleep and the Maoh gently brushed the knuckles of one hand across a feather-soft cheek, warm with life. "Anything else, Gisela?"

"He's human."

Cecilie gasped in shock and heard her eldest and youngest sons stir in agitation at the discovery.

"Mother!" Wolfram exclaimed, looking conflicted between stepping forward to take the potential danger from her and backing away in disgust. "We must do something with it and fast! It can't stay in Blood Pledge Castle! What if it's a distraction, there could be an infiltration plot––"

"Don't be ridiculous, Wolf," Celi chided her youngest, recovering quickly. The young one in her arms shifted a bit restlessly, as if hearing the accusations. She shushed him and began rocking back and forth, remembering how doing so had calmed Wolfram when he was an infant. The gentle movement seemed to have a similar effect and the raven-haired child drifted back off. "Now keep your voices down, or you'll wake him."

"Mother," Wolfram protested. "You can't be thinking of _keeping _it, this–this _human_, this thing––"

Gwendal studied his mother with a sharp eye, recognizing the stubborn set of her jaw and the softness of her eyes, which had hardly left the infant in her arms ever since she'd picked him up from within the treasure room. He placed a heavy, restraining hand on Wolfram's shoulder, the reprimanding glare of a commanding officer making the younger fall quiet almost instantly. "I believe the decision has already been made."

"What of his family?" Gisela asked in a soothing voice, not wanting to offend Cecilie. "Surely they would want him back."

Celi shook her head sternly. "No. Like you said, whoever hurt this child was full of hate and anger. The chances of his family being alive are slim to none, if he was with them like any young child should be. If not, then they aren't worthy of the joy of parenthood.

"_I_ will care for him."

Wolfram looked as if he were about to protest again, but the tender gaze his mother was directing at the infant in her arms made him swallow any words he wanted to say. It was no secret that Celi adored children even more than she adored good-looking men. Her mind had been made up and there was no changing it.

Gisela smiled faintly, the tilt of her lips indicating a kind of satisfaction with the Maoh's choice. "I will have Wolfram's old crib brought to your quarters and inform the kitchen staff of his dietary needs."

"Thank you, Gisela," she said, perhaps a little too loud because sleepy eyes began to blink up at her. She caught her first glimpse of emerald green eyes and breathed in sharply in surprise. They were not black like a soukoku, like his hair would indicate, and Celi realized almost instantly how easy it would be to pass the young one off as a biological son. Green eyes just a shade darker than her own blinked innocently up at her and Celi found herself falling in love with the newest addition to her family.

_Four years later._

Wolfram tried to stifle his irritation at the child trailing behind him like a lost puppy, wishing his mother hadn't decreed he needed to bond with his little brother by watching him for the day, especially when he had much more important things to do, like training the new militia recruits. Although the war with the humans had ebbed in the past few years, losing their vigilance in the face of mortal prejudice and hatred was a strategic mistake. Even though his mother's years as the Maoh were drawing to an end, that didn't mean she could lose her attentiveness to the outside world.

Fortunately, she didn't specify in what way he was to bond with the little raven-haired human (yuck), so it was perfectly acceptable to sit him on the ground and let him watch as he drilled the recruits. Leonhard* would either deal with it or entertain himself in some other way, preferably outside of Wolfram's line of sight. Unless he _really_ wanted to watch Wolfram teach these bumbling idiots how to properly hold a sword, then he could sit by himself and keep quiet.

_[A/N: Leonhard - German form of Leonard, which means "brave lion." Fitting for our beloved Gryffindor. Nicknamed Lion Heart, a play on the German pronunciation.]_

As Wolfram went about training, green eyes tracked his movement, uncomprehending the coldness from the blonde and the accompanying emptiness he felt in his chest because of it. He stood like an out of place statue by a row of hedges, watching as his big brother parried and sparred with the newest soldiers, the wood practice swords thumping dully together as strikes were exchanged. Maybe if Leon could one day wield a sword like these men, Wolfram wouldn't seem so opposed to his presence.

Content to watch, Leon took what little comfort from the relative proximity to his brother he could get. It was then that a glinting out of the corner of his eyes pulled his attention from the courtyard to the reflective surface of genuine, metal swords. They were arranged neatly on a rack, where the soldiers had traded the real thing in for the wooden ones. Curiosity overriding common sense, Leon plodded over to the display, leaning forward to stare at his reflection in the shiny blades, all pale flesh and dark hair. If Leon could learn to use one, Wolfram would notice him, right? _Right_? So what better time then the present, then now?

He couldn't see a wooden sword left over, so he reached for the leather-wrapped hilt of a real sword, having to stand on his tiptoes and strain before his fingers brushed the cool grip. Unable to get a hold, he went for the guard instead and began to delicate process of wiggling it free, eyes screwed in concentration and tongue sticking out from between his teeth. He nearly had it dislodged when suddenly he was feet away and in the restraining (and somewhat punishing) grip of his furious brother.

"What––do––you––think––you're––doing?" The inquiry was barked into his ear and he was dropped to the ground onto his backside to stare owlishly up at furious green eyes. The unexpected impact of bottom to ground brought tears to his own green eyes, but he blinked them away as confusion overcame any discomfort his felt.

Five minutes later after being thoroughly berated and even spanked in front of the entire courtyard, Leon scrambled away from Wolfram and returned eye contact with righteous anger of his own. All confusion was washed away by embarrassment and ire and he may or may not have declared eternal hatred for his brother before storming away. He could hear the ruckus of Wolfram returning to training the recruits with extra viciousness. He just didn't know that the recruits' poor performance after that was due to the violent blue shade that had replaced Wolfram's normal fair hair without him knowing.

* * *

Leon was seven and sitting on the windowsill as Anissina presented the helmet-shaped contraption with its blinking lights to his mother and Gwendal. For the umpteenth time that day, he had to reach up and adjust the hair that fell into his face. It was getting long and even more unmanageable than usual, regular trimming seeming to do nothing to curb its wild tendencies.

Gwendal was appropriately wary of the benign-looking invention, eyebrow twitching when Anissina went on to introduce her newest product, _Bed Head Be Gone-kun_, and describe how it would cure Leon's chronic case of tangles and gravity-defiance. He knew something would go wrong and that Leon would pay the consequences, but Cecilie was perhaps just as eccentric as her off-and-on-again lover and supportive of her homicidal creations. Now all he could do was be there for the fall out and hope the young boy didn't lose his head during Anissina's insane pursuits.

Leon barely managed to conceal a flinch as the device was placed on his head. Eyes shuttered with fear, unseen by everyone but Gwendal, who tried to smile reassuringly, but only managed a small grimace. They both flinched simultaneously as _Bed Head Be Gone-kun_ began to whir and buzz and hum; Leon went stiff as a rod and strove to remain as still as he could, hoping it would somehow convince the strange invention to keep his scalp firmly attached. Leon knew well what Anissina's inventions could do.

Barely thirty seconds passed before the helmet began to smoke. A circuit popped and Leon gave a full-body flinch that convinced the aspiring inventor to remove her malfunctioning creation. Cecilie gasped in horror as the top of Leon's head was revealed; it was intact, fortunately, but the hair… well, what was left of it, a whole eighth of an inch, replaced his normal bushy mane and Gwendal went to find some tissues as the boy slowly realized what had happened.

Shaking hands ascended to touch the prickly bristles, so short that his pale scalp was visible. A bottom lip trembled and the seven year old gave the two women that most betrayed look a child could manage. When Gwendal returned, he was swift to scoop up the boy and whisk him away before the waterworks began in earnest. He proceeded to teach him how to knit a cap to hide his lack of hair. Only a day later did he realize it was unnecessary.

Leon's black locks were back in abundance by the time he woke for breakfast.

* * *

Any ten year old would be hard pressed to stay awake during one of Günter's history lessons. Leon found himself nodding off at a table in the massive library. Over a dozen books laid scattered across the top, all about the early governing body of Shin Makoku and how it was founded. But as of late, Leon found it painful to read for any length of time and had to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the tension. Everything was blurry to some extent or another and the headaches only got worse the longer he tried to focus his vision.

Günter fumbled about for a text that he evidently forgot back in his quarters. At once Leon saw the opportunity for what it was, feeling suffocated enough to resort to drastic measures. As his tutor went to retrieve the missing book, the raven-haired boy waited until the count of ten, then scrambled from his chair and made a bolt for the door. Unfortunately, Günter's quarters were quite close to the library (big surprise there), so he had to duck behind a shelf before he could reach his freedom.

As Günter called for him with confusion, Leon bided his time until the naïve tutor was towards the back and facing away. With no better chance coming, he broke cover and sprinted for the doors. His rapid footsteps alerted the pale-haired Mazoku to his intentions and before anyone could say _Shinou_, the two were in a fast-paced race through the castle, Leon running for his freedom while Günter wailed about the importance of history and politics that all Mazoku should know––apparently he'd forgotten Leon wasn't Mazoku.

No one knew how the raven-haired boy climbed onto the coned-shaped roof of one of the old towers, but it took a lot of coaxing to get him back down again.

* * *

_Next on __Aut viam inveniam aut faciam_

**Chapter 3**: Leon's abilities become more and more evident as he gets older and more powerful. He feels shunned by those in his age group and disconnected from those in the Castle. After a disastrous accident with his magic, it is determined he will go to the Shinou Temple and receive the help he needs.

**Chapter 4**: The events of episode one take place.


End file.
